Free Come On Closer by Kendra Leigh Castle

the door shut with a loud
smack
. “I’m just going to grab some chips and get home. Good luck with your whole plan . . . thing. I’ll see you.” She gave him a smile that probably looked scary, then walked away as quickly as she could without running.
    Breathe. Peaceful breathing. Four in, hold for eight, four out . . .
    â€œHey, wait up. Did I say something?”
    Why did his legs have to be even longer than hers? He’d caught up in seconds. The fact that he looked so clueless was even more frustrating. Or maybe it was just the way his cologne, light and subtle, managed to wrap itself around her, making it impossible to think straight.
    â€œNo, why would you think that?” she asked. If he wanted to keep talking, he could follow her to the junk food aisle. The way she was feeling, she’d be clearing out a whole shelf.
    â€œThis may be hard for you to believe, but I’m pretty good at identifying when people are pissed off at me.”
    That forced a smile out of her. She couldn’t help it. “No way,” she said.
    â€œWay. It’s a gift.” He watched her grab a bag of onion crunchies and a bag of salt-and-vinegar potato chips. “You’re not going to eat those together, are you?”
    â€œOh hell yes.”
    He wrinkled his nose. “Huh. I thought you were a sugar junkie.”
    â€œNo, I just like things that are bad for me in general.” She realized a split second after the words left her mouth that the statement could be applied to Shane as well, and that he knew it. They stared at each other awkwardly for a few long seconds, then began speaking at the same time.
    â€œLook, Larkin, if this is still about Saturday, I wasn’t trying to make you feel—”
    â€œShane, you don’t need to feel weird about going out with somebody else. I told you I’m not—”
    â€œWait, what?” He stopped midsentence, and Larkin’s eyes widened. Had she just said that? She’d said that. Awesome.
    â€œUm. I just, ah . . .” She could see immediately that she’d been wrong, so very, very, embarrassingly wrong about that nature of Cici’s and his little interlude of intimate laughter. As comprehension dawned on Shane’s face, she wished very hard for the ability to sink through floors.
    Sadly, as ever, no superpower was forthcoming. Shane cocked his head, as though studying her from another angle might provide him with some new insight, and looked torn between laughter and complete confusion.
    â€œYou think I’m seeing . . .” One of his eyebrows arched so high she thought it might vanish into his hair. “Larkin. Whatever you might have heard, Cici Ferris and I are not, never were, and never will be a thing. That’s just . . . no.” She did feel better for a brief moment until he frowned and his expression went from startled to annoyed. It was hard to blame him. She’d been annoying herself all week. Without shifting her gaze, she reached behind her and slid another bagof onion crunchies into her cart. Maybe that would help. “You really think I’d move that quickly from . . . No, don’t answer that. Of course you do. Everybody tends to think the worst about me and relationships. Why should you be any different?”
    His jaw flexed, and he stared at the floor for a few long moments before lifting his gaze back to hers. The oceanic blue of his eyes was as wintry as she’d ever seen it. Guilt bloomed deep in her chest. This was
not
how this was supposed to go. She was a jerk magnet. Her romantic history was littered with bad boys of every possible stripe—tattooed musicians, preppy young CEOs, hipsters with an edge—and the only guilt she’d ever felt was not having left them sooner. Each guy in turn had promised to fill her up and then left her empty, no matter how sure she was that
this
one was different.